Death: The Big Game
by Creating Myths
Summary: Post-series- As they start their lives anew, the Gundam Boys find themselves being hunted one by one. Crossover w/ "Death" from DC/Vertigo Comics. Bishounen ai implications.
1. Prologue: Death and the Perfect Soldier

Death: The Big Game

A Death/Gundam Wing death fic by the Kitsune-yasha

Notes (i.e. why I wrote this):

Um, okay…I'm a fan of "The Sandman" and all its spin-offs, including "Death", but at the same time, I am an anime fan. I already did something similar to this in EVA (well, not similar…I just crossed over Death with the series), and I felt that a Death/GW cross over would be cool/appropriate. It is possible if you know the characters and don't allow them to go OOC too much. Yeah…So I'm sorry if anybody's pissed at me for crossing over Gundam Wing with a British comic book. 

Warnings:  
Can't think of any off the bat. Maybe some gruesomeness and angst. That's all really.

Legal Stuff: "The Sandman" and "Death" belong to Neil Gaiman, an awesome writer whose works I recommend to anybody. Gundam Wing belongs to whoever owns it (It has slipped my mind!).

Enjoy!

*******************************************************

Prologue: Death and the Perfect Soldier

It was the best battle Heero Yuy had ever fought it his life without a Gundam. Fifteen men had surrounded him and only five remained standing. He kicked, he punched, he beat the living shit out of the men who had surrounded him. He anticipated their moves, knowing by now each individual's fighting style and predicting where and how they would strike next. His moves were strategic and well calculated. There was no way he could lose. That is, if he had noticed the gunman on the roof.

The bullet pierced his skull. He didn't die instantly. No. He was too strong for that. He was the Perfect Soldier. Sure, he fell to the ground, but he wasn't dead just yet. And true, he couldn't move his limbs or speak, but he wasn't entirely dead. He could still see, though everything was dimming and his vision was covered with his life's fluid. He saw his adversaries laugh and mock him, then congratulate each other one a job well done. They mentioned the next phase of their plan, which was to go after another one of the Gundam pilots (who it was exactly was left unmentioned). After that, they left, casually walking away, leaving Heero to die on his back, staring up at the sky. Shortly after that, everything seemed to stop. The world stood still. His vision no longer dimmed or was red from his blood. All sounds ceased, including the familiars ones inside Heero's body. 

"Omae o korosu," was the only thing that Heero could hear. Of course it was himself saying it, but what use did it have now when he was totally immobile and possibly dead.

"Of course you will, Heero Yuy," a voice said somewhere close by.

A face filled his vision. It was a gothic girl, with skin whiter than the snow and raven-black eyes lined with the Eye of Horus. Her black lips were pulled back in a friendly grin. She seemed to be a nice person, someone who could be called a friend, but long ago Heero had been taught not to trust people like that.

"Who are you?" Heero demanded.

"You know who I am," she said in a soft tone.

That tone made him shudder, because it reminded him of a lost memory, a memory kept away from everyone the day they were born. Of course he knew this lady, this friendly woman who just walked right up to him and smiled. He knew her from the day of his birth when she talked to him as he entered life(1); he knew her from the various battles he fought and the many people he slew; he knew her from the lore quoted by his fellow ex-pilots. She was the patron of all wars, all soldiers, all people, all life. She was what she was. And she had come for him.

Heero nodded his head once. "I knew someday I would meet you," he said.

"Indeed," Death said, giving him another smile. She held out her hand. "Maybe you should get off of the ground. You may feel better."

Spoken like a genuine friend.

Heero took her arm and pulled as she pulled him at the same time. Soon, he was on his feet again, discovering that she had been right. He felt much better, but he wasn't going to admit it or show it. His face remained stony, as usual, as he grunted his thank you.

"No problem," she said cheerfully.

"What now?" Heero asked.

"Now? That's for you to find out."

"Hn." 

**************************

They found his body not too long after. He was taken to the morgue where his fellow ex-pilots were called to identify his body. Duo and Quatre cried the most, Trowa kept his usual silence, and, surprisingly, Wufei kept his cool, not going on some ramble about revenge and justice being served. He was the one who was shocked the most in truth. This was something that Wufei had never expected in a million years. 

Though they did not like her or had indifferent feelings towards her, they notified Relena, since she did in fact love him, though whether he loved her back was often questionable. Her reaction was similar to Duo and Quatre's, though she cried more and harder. From what they heard, she shut herself into her rooms and denied any visitors.

A few days later, a wake was held. Many people attended mostly Preventers. Each pilot said a couple words and Duo read the eulogy. People passed by the casket to pay their final respects. Many flowers were presented. People stood around afterwards and chatted, talking about the deceased and old times. Relena did not show up.

The funeral followed the next day. More flowers were laid on the casket as it was being lowered. There was a small Christian prayer service, too. Though Heero was not Christian and pretty much made no references to any religious beliefs, the boys thought that a Christian service would be best with its beauty and simplicity. There were some people who dwelled at the grave after it was filled in, most notably Wufei, who was still in shock, and Duo, who had been perhaps the closest of the other four pilots to Heero. 

"Omae o korosu," Duo said to the wind before he left.

When everybody was gone, Relena came by. She had not attended the funeral, for she had been afraid to lose face when she should be strong at this time. She laid a simple teddy bear by the headstone and walked away, silently saying her farewell as she left.

To be continued…

***********************************************

Yeah yeah yeah…I know it's a bit odd, but this is the prologue. I know people will be pissed about Heero dying, but without him, how strong is the rest of the ex-pilots when they're being hunted. In this they must stick together. They must rely on each other more than they had to in the past as they defend themselves against their mysterious hunters. Can they survive or will they meet Death?

Read on!

(1) In the Sandman series, it is hinted that Death's function isn't only taking people away when they die. She also greets them at their birth


	2. Life

Death: The Big Game 

By the Kitsune-yasha

Notes: Okay, this is where I summarize what happens to the Gundam pilots. It's one big informative chapter (oh, you can tell I'm such a Wufei fan too). Sorry that it's short.

***********************************

Chapter One: Life

It had been months since Heero's death. Life went on, as it always has a habit of doing, even if the four remaining Gundam pilots weren't ready. They had their time to mourn, some taking longer than others. Wufei and Duo took the longest, both either very close to Heero or secretly admiring him. In the end, Duo accepted what had happened with a stern face and a vow for vengeance, while Wufei just let out all his buried emotions in the form of tears. The latter was a surprise to the others since it was rumored that the introvert loner had long ago given up such displays of emotions. Nobody could remember that if there was a time before that the Solitary Dragon had even shed a tear. Some say he cried when Treize died, others say that he never cried, even when Treize had said his "Adieu," even when his wife had passed away. Eventually, Wufei came to his senses, accepting Yuy's death, but never really accepting it at the same time. In the process, he quit his job as a preventer and left Sally, for reasons the rest of the pilots would never know or fully understand. 

Again, life went on, this time with the pilots. Quatre continued to work on bringing peace to all the colonies and to Earth, working with Relena a lot. Trowa did something surprising; he quit the circus. He moved in with Quatre and worked as an aid to the blonde boy, helping to spread the idea of Absolute Pacifism. Duo remained Duo. Of course, he quit his job and left Hilde too, explaining that he wanted to move on in life and see the world as a regular human being, not as a pilot of a weapon of mass destruction (though the weapon itself had been destroyed). He invited Wufei to come with him. Of course it was an offer the Chinese boy couldn't turn down, so he went. What happened to them after that? Nobody knows. They just didn't keep in contact with their friends. 

And through it all, they were being hunted. Each and every one of them. The boys never knew it, though. They never knew that these stealthy hunters watched them as they made their speeches, worked late night in the office, toured the ruins of an ancient civilization, and searched in the wonder of the world for the truth an old enemy spoke. Months passed and the hunters watched, ever so patient in their observations. Ever so patient as to when they would go after the big game.

*************************

Yeah yeah yeah…Short but sweet…there's more.


	3. Messages

Death: The Big Game

By the Kitsune-yasha

Notes: the action starts here

**********************************************

Chapter Two: Messages

A year passed. Wufei left Duo somewhere in Italy, tiring of the lavish lifestyle, the hotels, the wine, the meaningless voyages to old, forgotten worlds… Duo wasn't sad over it; he understood. They parted, saying their farewells and good lucks. From there, Wufei just disappeared into the ever-revolving world. The last Duo heard, Wufei was in New York.

Duo went onto Rome, visiting the Vatican, touring the ruins of the ancient civilization, causing mischief and mayhem in the nightclubs…. After Rome became boring, he went to Greece, but found the same things there as he had in Rome, only in a different language with different people. He moved through the Middle East, experiencing the hot days, cold nights, and everything in between, all while wondering about how Quatre could have put up with it for such a long time. Eventually, the Middle East bored him with all its tradition and strict customs. He moved once more, this time to Egypt where he crawled through the pyramids and looked for treasure, curses, and mummies. 

"I am the God of Death," he had often declared to the hesitant guides whenever they approached a tomb with a curse. "Nothing can hurt me."

It was this same declaration which made his guides leave him one day when he was about to enter the tomb of a king. It didn't matter. He could find his way out. He could survive.

"I'm Shinigami," he murmured. "Nothing will ever hurt me."

"Is that so?" a voice said behind him.

He turned around. Before him stood a young woman dressed in all black from head to foot. Even her make up was black. Duo noticed that she sported two Egyptian symbols; an eye of Horus, drawn on one eye, and a silver ankh, dangling for a chain around her neck. She was smiling sweetly at him, as a friend would.

"Who are you?" Duo asked. "A gothic Egyptian enthusiast?"

She laughed and shook her head. "Neither, I'm afraid. I'm a friend, Duo. I was asked to deliver a message to you from another friend of your."

"Really? Who? I bet it's Quatre. He's always trying to organize some reunion."

The woman shook her head. "No, it's not from Quatre, though I will be seeing him very soon too."

"Trowa then? He could need something."

Another shake of the head. "No, it's not Trowa, either. But I'll see him as well."

Duo's heart skipped a beat. There was only one person left that he could think of and that was Wufei. Had the Chinese boy changes his mind? Did he want to return to Duo, travel the world with him, among other things? "So then it's Wufei? What does he have to say to me?"

"Nothing," the woman replied. "It's not Wufei who asked me to give you a message. He is another person I have on my list of people to see, though. This person wishes to remain anonymous. The only thing that matters is the message."

"So what is it?"

"Be careful. Be very careful, Duo," she told him. "You are in danger. If you don't watch your back you may be dead." She sighed. "That's it, I'm afraid."

"You're afraid?"

The woman nodded. "Yes. You see the friend who sent this message doesn't even know who is threatening you. You are in the worst sort of danger Duo Maxwell; blind danger. You don't know who is after you and when they'll strike." She frowned. "I must be leaving."

She turned around and went back through the tunnel whence Duo came.

"Wait!" he shouted. "You never told me you name!"

Her footsteps stopped. "You know who I am, Duo; you just don't recognize me. I'll tell you my name the next time I see you, which will be soon."

"Soon?" Duo murmured. 

A chill ran down his spine. The way she said it made him realize that she was indeed familiar, but he didn't know her name. 

"Until we meet again," he muttered. "However soon that may be."

************************************

It was night in New York. The nightclubs and bars were alive with people wanting to see the bands playing. It was a big night for Wufei. Tonight was the night his band might be able to get a record deal. It was rumored that a record executive would be watching them tonight. This meant the world to Wufei, this deal did. It didn't matter if it meant a rise to fame. It meant that he had accomplished something as a civilian, not a pilot. It meant that he could survive in the world of normal people.

Six months ago, out of sheer boredom, he had replied to an ad in the newspaper. Evidently a small band needed a lead singer since their old front man had quit. The band (made up of two boys his age, another boy two years older than him, and a girl perhaps a year or so older) let Wufei audition. They liked his voice and style of singing, even if his English wasn't perfect and he stumbled over a couple words. They asked him to join. Again, out of boredom, he did. 

Now, Eye of Horus would take the stage for a show that would last two hours, comprised of only their songs, their riffs, their work. It thrilled Wufei more than piloting Nataku had. He could be famous for something good after tonight. He could make it as a civilian.

The music started. It was a fast pace, heavy beat song about chance and life. It was Wufei's favorite song to sing. It described his feelings perfectly. Maybe once before he had told the lead guitarist, Metyl, how he felt about the song and how it was his favorite. That's why it was first tonight.

__

Can you remember the time?

Can you remember the danger?

Don't you want it all again?

Can you remember your words,

As we laughed at Death?

Can't we do it one more time…?

The world's fall'n apart!

Simple lyrics. That's all. But there was something deeper in the song. As he howled the chorus, screaming his lungs and soul out into the microphone, he caught sight of someone interesting in the audience.

Something Wufei had noticed the six months he had been on stage was that nothing ever really caught your eye under the neon and strobe lights. Nothing was ever really noticeable. Everybody in that crowd became a giant blob of colors and screams. Rarely did he notice anybody. When he did, it either meant (1) the lights in the house were poor, or (2) the noticed person was worth noticing.

Tonight, the lights in the house weren't poor; they were the best lights Eye of Horus had ever performed under. That meant the person he noticed was worth it. And she truly was.

A girl stood out in the middle of the crowd. She was older than Wufei, maybe in her twenties, and she was dressed in all black. Her skin was a literal white and an Eye of Horus was drawn around one eye. He would have said she was gothic, but she wore a top hat with her black jeans and black tank top. This was a style Wufei had never seen among the gothic peoples before. She smiled at him and sang a few lines with him, her mouth moving with his. She stopped and smiled again. Wufei knew that after the concert, he should talk to her, this interesting young lady.

The rest of the concert was great. Following his favorite song, they played a bunch of political songs insulting various governments, then they went into the slow songs, which the couples out there seemed to enjoy. Following the slow songs, they played some fast, fun tunes, mostly originals and one cover of Metallica's "Fuel," which the crowd loved to pieces. Their last song was a serious one about life and choices people make. This was another crowd pleaser. The crowd cheered them off stage. 

Wufei departed from the rest of the band quickly, explaining that he had something to do. He went into the crowd and began to search for the lady he noticed, but he could find no sign of her. He asked a couple of fans if they had seen a lady in all black and a top hat, but no one could give a definite answer. "We were all watching you," they told him. 

After searching for over half an hour, Wufei gave up and made his way to the bar for a drink. He was underage, but the bartender didn't care. He and his band had played one helluva show; that's all that mattered to the bartender. He gave Wufei as much free alcohol as he wanted. Not that Wufei cared, though. Alcohol wasn't a particular favorite beverage. He just needed something to drink that would take his mind off his failed search and the big show…and perhaps other things that had a habit of haunting him at the strangest times.

"Hey! You're the lead singer for Eye of Horus, aren't yah?" an excited voice asked behind him as Wufei sucked on his beer.

He turned around. Behind him stood a man from a local music magazine that reviewed local bands. He had seen this guy before, even talked to him once. Found him extremely annoying. Wufei sighed and closed his eyes.

"Hey, I want your thoughts on tonight's show," the man said, taking out his pad of paper and a pen.

"Great," was the only answer Wufei gave. 

"The crowd was excited when you guys did 'Blackfire.' Any comments on the song itself? What was the inspiration?"

Wufei shrugged. "I don't know. I don't write the songs."

"Hm." The man made a face. "Well, what are your feelings about the songs you sing?"

Wufei shrugged again. "They're great." He took another gulp of his beer. 

"Is that all you have to say?"

Wufei nodded. "Yes," he said indifferently.

"What do you have to say about the rumors going around about you?"

Wufei lifted an eyebrow. This was new. "Rumors?"

"Yeah." The man nodded, preparing his pen. "They say you were a pilot of a mobile suit in the war and that you had sexual relations with the late OZ leader Treize Khushrenada and that you're gay and left a lover before you came to NYC."

Wufei knitted his eyebrows. How did these people dig up all this stuff? True, maybe he had been or done all those things, but it wasn't the public's right to know every little detail about him. He knew this reporter wasn't going to leave him alone about this. He needed at least a distraction so that he could disappear from this man's sights.

"Hey, isn't that Tori Starr from Sakura?" he lied, pointing in the opposite direction to a random person in the crowd.

"Tori Starr?!" the man yelled. "Whoa! She's a hot item! Maybe I can get an interview with her!"

The man turned back to Wufei to tell him thanks, but he found that the lead singer was already gone. "Dammit!" the man exclaimed.

***************************

Wufei slipped out the back door into the alley. He sat down on the steps nursing his beer and trying to figure out how the hell that man knew everything. With today's technology there were many ways he or somebody else could have hacked into any records that might've still existed about him and the other pilots, but if Wufei recalled correctly, Heero had destroyed all the records. The Treize thing was partially true, but still, there was no way anybody could've known, except if the Russian aristocrat had wrote in a log about it. As for the thing about him leaving Duo, that one totally stumped him. It could've been possible he mentioned it to Jamie (the girl in Eye of Horus) when he had gotten drunk that one time (long story. It was the only time he had gotten totally wasted), but he doubted that he had. 

Wufei shook his head, muttered something and nursed his beer again.

"You look troubled, Wufei," a voice said above him.

He looked up. It was the girl he had been looking for. She was seated on the closed lid on the Dumpster beside the back door of the bar. She no longer wore the top hat, but she was still in her black tank top. It was a chilly night out. Wufei had to wonder how she could stand it.

"I was looking for you," he said. "I saw you out in the crowd tonight."

"I know. I was looking for you, too, Wufei."

"Are you a fan?" he asked, pointing to the Eye of Horus drawn around one of her eyes. 

She laughed. "No really, but your music is good. No; I'm just a messenger. A friend of yours asked me to deliver you a message."

"A message? From who?"

"He wishes to remain anonymous."

Wufei made a face. That was stupid. Only a fool would do something like that…a braided fool. "It's from Duo, isn't it? What does the fool have to say?"

The girl laughed again. "Sorry, Wufei; it's not from Duo."

Wufei lifted an eyebrow. "Quatre then? He probably needs my help, right?" She shook her head. "Great. It's Trowa. Why would he need to send an anonymous message?"

The girl sighed. "It's not from Trowa, Wufei. You're far off on your guesses, yet you're so close. The messenger wishes to remain secret."

Wufei shrugged. "Okay. Guess I'll find out who it is sooner or later. If it really is Duo, may his God of Death so help him…" He took another drink. "So what's the message?"

"Be careful, my client says," she told him. "You need to watch your back, or you may end up dead."

Wufei blinked. "That's it?"

"I'm afraid so."

Wufei bursts out laughing. The girl looked a bit enraged at this. "Tell your 'client' that I am fully capable of taking care of myself. Nobody knows anything about me." A lie.

"You may be surprised, Wufei," the girl said. "There are a number of ways people can find out other people's secrets and use them against them. You have a lot to lose, Wufei. In your case, I would suggest that you heed this warning."

Wufei continued to laugh. "Some people are overprotective," he commented, holding the beer bottle close to his lips. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself and eliminating anyone who crosses my path and threatens me. I know Duo may not think this, but-" He looked up at the girl once more, but found that she was gone. "Hey! Where'd she go?" He sighed and shrugged. "Stupid onna," he muttered.

*****************************

It was the afternoon in California. The sun was bright and the waves were begging to be ridden by the young Californian teens. Everything was picturesque of a Beach Boy's song, as people went out into the sun to have their fun. Girls walked around in bikinis on the beaches and boys wore loose, comfortable clothing with flip-flop sandals. Quatre Raberba Winner so wanted to be apart of it all, but he was bogged down in work. As he worked on tedious diplomatic papers and plans that assured there would be a stable future between Earth and the colonies, he silently cursed the hotel he had been booked in for being located so close to the beach. _The old diplomats are testing me_, he told himself, _and the beach culture is tempting me_. He set down his pen for a moment and stared once more out the window. He sighed and stood up to close the blinds. 

"No normal teenage boy works on diplomatic agreements," he muttered.

"No normal teenage boy has had to save the world," Trowa replied from the front door.

Quatre brightened up a bit. He let a smile grace his features. "Sorry. I didn't hear you come in. How long have you been standing there?"

Trowa shrugged. "Five minutes at the most."

Quatre noticed that his silent companion was holding a box. There were probably papers he needed to look over in it. He groaned. "Let me guess; you just got back from the branch," he said in reference to the diplomatic branch in California. 

Trowa remained silent as nominal for his character and came forward. He set the box in the chair opposite from Quatre. "There's some things in there for next weeks meeting that you need to look over."

"Ah."

Quatre reached into the box and pulled out a manila dossier. The contents told him that he was chosen to make a speech at the next meeting, haven been elected by the colonial representatives to do so. The speech would be on ways the Earth and the colonies could become more interdependent on each other for economical purposes. Since the Winners had a business, it was thought that Quatre could come up with a great economic plan. Quatre rolled his eyes. It was another test from the older diplomats.

"I need a break," he groaned as he sank to the table and buried his head in his arms.

Through the corner of his eye, he caught sight of the closed window. Behind those blinds was a place where he could relax and take it easy for a couple hours. He wouldn't have to work on tedious papers, he wouldn't have to pull late-nighters to make a plan and a speech. He could just enjoy the sun and its culture that worshipped it by wearing bikinis and going around half-naked. 

"Trowa?"

"Yes?"

"Did you pack your swimming trunks?"

Trowa made a rare questionable face. "As a matter of fact, yes. Why?"

"We're going to the beach."

***************************

The culture of the sun's worshippers was a fun one. Quatre enjoyed walking through the streets, being treated to a variety of music and language. A couple times, some cute Californian girls looked in his and Trowa's direction and giggled. Quatre had blushed admittedly.

__

I wish they all could be Californian girls.

Quatre smiled as he remembered that ancient Beach Boy's song from way back when. He saw the reason to it, too. Californian girls had this amazing air to them like they were oblivious to the world and wanted you to join them. Quatre could never do something like that, though. He had Trowa and he was content.

Both boys were dressed for their journey in the sun. Quatre wore t-shirt, a ridiculous pair of Hawaiian print trunks that fit him nicely, and regular sandals. He looked in place with the people all around him. Trowa looked a bit odd in his dark green trunks, but if he had been uncomfortable, he showed no signs of it. He wore a black muscle shirt and flip-flops, both of which he had purchased in a shop inside the hotel, having not packed or not possessing either item. They made quite a pair as they walked down the street towards the beach. More girls looked at them and giggled, as did a couple men (but they did not giggle). Some girls passing said hi and winked. Quatre blushed deeply at this and returned a shy hello, while Trowa just nodded and grunted. 

After ten minutes of walking in this Brian Wilson-inspired society of sun worshipers, they made it to the beach and found a decent spot in the sun that wasn't too far away from the water. They laid down their towels and sat down, watching the life of the beach unfold before them. On the waves, the surfers danced their perilous dance with their boards as their support. Beach bums and women who couldn't possible get any darker laid on the beach around the two visitors, working on their tans and falling asleep in the process. Children and their mothers and fathers played in the water or collected seashells half buried in the sand. It was so nice to have the sun against bare skin, feeling its warmth as it darkened skin and lightened hair. This was paradise to Quatre.

"When do you want to go back?" Trowa asked out of the blue.

"I'm not sure if I ever want to return," Quatre answered, letting out a content sigh.

"It is nice," Trowa admitted in his silent, poised way.

"Yes, it is. We should vacation here whenever we have a break."

"That won't be for a while, then," Trowa commented.

Quatre frowned. "You're right. The situation between the colonies and the Earth will take a while to stabilize. There are still colonists who don't trust people from Earth based on what Oz and the Alliance did to their colonies. There are Earthers who don't trust the colonists because of the war and old terrorist acts. A common ground needs to be found and agreed upon if we're going to have any peace. It's a hard thing to do, to make a pacifist society. Sometimes it seems that fighting all those battles were easier."

"Don't give up," a voice said behind them. "Peace will come to those who work for it."

The boys looked behind them. A young woman about a few years older than them stood not far. She was dressed in all black, from her head to her toes, and her skin was pale. Over her eyes, she wore a pair of shades, in which Quatre and Trowa could see their reflections. Around her neck, she wore a symbol from a culture that had died off in the far distant past of Earth. She looked to be one of those gothic people Quatre had once heard about. He wondered how she could stand the weather in her clothes.

"I'm not hot," she told him. "The heat doesn't bug me."

"How did you know I was thinking that?" Quatre asked, quite shocked at her guess.

"Your eyes, Quatre. They're the windows of your soul, y'know." She removed her glasses. Her eyes were black like her clothing and hair. Around one eye, she had a symbol from another culture that had been extinct for thousands of years (or was it from the same culture as her necklace?).

"Who are you?" Trowa asked, eyeing her a bit warily.

"A friend, Trowa," she replied. "A friend with a message from another friend of yours. But before you start asking questions, I want to tell you that I've already delivered the same message to Duo and Wufei. The friend who sent this wants to remain anonymous."

"Um, alright…" Quatre was unsure about this. It sounded all too suspicious. "What's the message?"

"Be careful," she told them. "Watch your backs and keep an eye out. If you don't, you might wind up in danger or worse."

"Oh my," Quatre murmured.

Trowa narrowed his eyes at the strange young woman. "Just who are you really? And who is this friend? That message sounds like a threat."

The young woman frowned and shook her head. "This is not a threat, Trowa. I'm just the messenger."

Trowa knitted his eyebrows. "…"

"Don't worry, Trowa," she said. "Your friend means no offense or danger to you. He just wanted me to deliver this message so nothing bad would befall you."

"…"

The young woman laughed. "He told me you would be hard to convince, Trowa. Now if you'll excuse me," she pulled from behind her back a black umbrella and opened it, "I have to be on my way. I have my own business here and about." She walked off casually with the umbrella resting on her shoulder.

"What an odd lady," Quatre commented.

"Hn." Trowa continued to stare at her until she disappeared.

"What is it, Trowa?" Quatre asked.

"I don't know," he replied. "She seems familiar, but I can't place her face. I know I've seen her somewhere before, or at least heard her voice."

Quatre frowned. "Strange…I got sort of a similar feeling from her. She acted as if she knew us and that she was our friend."

"That's because she does know us," Trowa said quietly. "We just don't know her. I don't like it."

*********************

They returned to the hotel after sunset. Both boys had stayed out longer than they had reckoned, both sporting nice tans and slight burns from not applying enough sun block. Lying out in the sun and swimming in the ocean had made them very tired. Quatre declared that he would start working early tomorrow on his plan and whatever else he needed to do. He then dropped onto the bed, almost immediately falling asleep. 

    @~~`~~~`~~~~~~~~
    Wah! I wanna be in California too!!!
Anyhow, there's more. Review. Read on. Do what you want. 


	4. To Become the God of Death Once More

Death: The Big Game

By the Kitsune-yasha

Notes: a major action scene. God, I suck at major action scenes, but that's my opinion. You be the judge of my major action scene.

*********************

Chapter Three: To Become the God of Death Once More

Duo scrambled to get out of the pyramid alive. A group of men were following him, well, chasing him now. Without warning, they had tried to attack Duo, but he was quick and had escaped into one of the passages. Luckily, it was a passage that led outside.

__

Dammit! He cursed. The words the strange Egyptian-goth fanatic had spoken to him were coming back to him now. She had given him a warning, one for his life. Why hadn't he heeded it? Why did he have to be so cocky? Now, his life was in danger through some strange men who seemed to be content in trying to kill Duo. _Must warn the others!_ He thought. Hadn't the lady mentioned something about delivering a message to Wufei, Quatre, and Trowa? He needed to contact them, to tell them that the chick was serious. But right now, he needed help getting away from the goons following him.

The lady had said something about seeing him sometime soon. Maybe she would assist him if he could find her. How hard could it be? How many gothic chicks were there in Egypt? 

"Shit!" he hissed as he clambered over the entrance and landed in the sand. His ankle had twisted an odd way when his feet hit the sand. He was sure that it was sprained. There was no stopping now, though. The pain would have to be ignored.

Behind him, he heard the shouts of the strange men. They were getting closer. He ran (or rather hobbled) into the night. He was almost halfway up the first dune when the goons came pouring out. He gathered all his energy and began to run as fast as he could, putting the pain of a sprained ankle in the back of his mind. He nearly fell as he ran down the dune. He continued to run, though.

When he was halfway up the fourth dune, a voice made him stop cold.

"Freeze!"

He looked up. A man stood at the top. He had a gun leveled at Duo. Duo could hear other men encircling him. He took a fighting stance.

"C'mon!" he yelled. "If it's a fight you want, it's a fight you'll get! Nobody can beat me! I am the God of Death!"

The men laughed. Duo scowled some more. The man with the gun stepped forward.

"Perhaps you don't understand what this is all about, Mr. Maxwell," he said. "We have orders to execute you."

"Orders? From who? And why the hell didn't he come out here to fight me?" Duo screamed.

"We have our orders."

Suddenly there came a loud, slightly earth rattling sound. A dark shadow loomed over the small group of people. Duo recognized its shape immediately, though the size was off.

"Duo Maxwell, meet your executioner," said the man.

All in front of the shadow stepped aside. Duo saw it clearly now. He laughed. He laughed like a maniac to the night.

"So this is how it's gonna be?" He stepped forward. "Nothing can beat me; not even your little toy."

He brought out his hand held thermal scythe that he used for cutting up impossible objects. Holding it high above his head, he made a mad dash at his executioner, whooping loudly a typical American catch phrase.

****************************

Duo had lost. What an embarrassment. And now he was dying. He, the self proclaimed God of Death, was lying in the sand bleeding his life out. His neck was broken along with some ribs (more than he imagined). A large nasty wound that ran deep in his abdomen was bleeding profusely. There were many other injuries, but there was no need to assess them all. He was dying.

"I wonder who will meet me," he murmured to the night stars above him, his speech slurred.

"I will," a familiar voice said beside him.

Duo didn't need to move his head to know that it was the gothic Egyptian fanatic lady. He just smiled to himself and continued to look at the stars and the moon.

"So you are the true God of Death," he said. "Makes sense. But I always imagined you as being bigger, stronger, and scarier than Quatre when he went Zero."

Death shrugged. "I try not to be like that. People really don't want some skeletal figure in robes taking them away."

There was silence. Really there was nothing more to say. There was something to wait for, though. Duo waited for those final moments in his life to see what he would see. He wanted to be conscious for those moments; he didn't want to miss them. He had heard many accounts of near-death experiences where the dying person saw everyone they loved whom had already died. _Maybe I'll see Father Maxwell, Sister Helen, and Heero_, he told himself. A thought then occurred to him.

"It was Heero who sent that message, wasn't it?" he asked Death.

"Yes. It was a last request that he asked for before I sent him off."

Duo laughed. "Baka. He always had to go first, didn't he?"

Death shrugged. "I suppose."

Duo sighed and continued to look at the sky. "Y'know what, Death-lady? I'm going to miss the moon. In space and from the colonies, it never looked like this. Earthers are lucky. They have the best view of the moon."

"That's true," Death replied with a nod. "It's almost time, Duo."

"I know." 

Duo left a series of shocks and spasms run through his body. His eyes went wide with shock as he felt his organs fail one by one. He had no idea dying would be like this. It almost hurt and sent him into a panic. He didn't want to die now. _But you reap what you sow, Maxwell_, a familiar voice in his mind seemed to say. It belonged to Wufei. _Great! The last voice I imagine when I die belongs to Wufei! This sucks!_

When he felt his heart fail, he knew he could not turn back. _Oh well…Wu-man was right…_ Not long after, he closed his eyes, the image of the moon remaining imprinted on the back of his eyelids. He let his brain stop completely.

"I look bad," Duo commented as he looked at his body lying in the sand. 

"Can't always look good when you die," Death told him.

"Yeah. You're right. So where do I go now? Hell, right?"

Death shrugged. "You'll go wherever you see fit, Duo."

Duo's violet eyes brightened. "Really? In that case, can I go to the moon?"

"If you're led there when we reach my lands."

Duo smiled. "Can't wait to get there." He looked at her. "I'm ready to go."

Death wrapped her arms around him. He hugged her back. "Have a nice afterlife, Duo Maxwell," she whispered.

All around him, things went dark. Somewhere in the distance, Duo heard the distinct sound of wings flapping. He smiled.

**************************

Wufei crumbled the telegram from the embassy in Egypt. Duo was dead. He had died of massive blood loss and injuries from what looked life a thermal weapon of sorts. How he had obtained these injuries was a mystery, but US agents in Egypt were investigating it. _They won't find anything_, Wufei told himself. They didn't find anything when Heero had died, either. He would never know who or what murdered both boys and who was after him and the other remaining pilots. _We are the prey, the big game,_ Wufei summarized. _We'll never know who the hunter is until it's our time to face them._

With that summary of what was happening, Wufei came across another revelation; there was a pattern. Why did Heero die when Wufei or any of the other pilots could have been killed? Well, first, he was the strongest of the group. It was a strategic move to pick off the strongest in the group. Then why was Duo killed? Wufei was a stronger fighter than Duo. If they were going in order of strongest to weakest, surely either he or Trowa would have been the next victim. So why was Duo killed before Trowa or Wufei but after Heero? What else was there? 

His number. Duo was designated the _second_ Gundam pilot, pilot 02. And Heero was designated 01. That could be the pattern. It made a lot of sense. 

Assuming that was the pattern, then who would be next? Pilot 03. And who was pilot 03? Trowa Barton. _I have to warn him._ But where was he? With Quatre. Where was Quatre? The last Wufei had heard, Quatre was in California for a conference. Surely Trowa would be there. 

"Oh shit," Wufei muttered.

If Trowa was the next target and Quatre was with him, who was to say that their hunter would try to kill him too. A double assassination. This wasn't good. _I have to warn them._

Wufei grabbed him jacket and headed out of his apartment. He would have to take a plane over there, which shouldn't be a problem. Before he and Duo had parted, Duo gave him a hefty sum of money to help him. That should cover a round trip plane ticket from New York to California. When he reached California, he would need a mode of transportation that was fast and agile, like a motorcycle. Not a problem. He could fly his motorcycle over there or get a rental. 

"Hey Wufei!"

Wufei closed his eyes and groaned. He had not stepped one foot outside his apartment building and he was already being harassed by rock magazine journalists. It was the guy from the bar last night. He didn't look so happy either.

"You gypped me out of an interview with you," the man said. "I want one right now."

"I have no time," Wufei growled. "I'm in a hurry."

"One question then! Surely you can answer just one question."

Wufei sighed and stopped. "What?" he asked.

"How do you feel about the recent death of former Gundam pilot, Duo Maxwell? I heard you two were an item."

Wufei whirled around and glared at him. "Where the hell do you assholes get this stuff?! It's none of your business what I think or who I was involved with! Will you just leave me alone?!"

Before the man could answer, Wufei had already mounted his motorcycle and was in the process of riding away.

"We have our ways," the man said under his breath. "We have our ways…"

@~~~`~~~`~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Okay. I've already killed off Heero and Duo. Will I kill off Trowa next or will he be spared? Um, I honestly don't know. I haven't written that far yet.

Oh well. You can review now if you wish :)


End file.
